


A Dream of Spring

by Kurohitenshi



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A Song of Ice and Fire References, Angst, Canon Compliant, Epilogue, F/M, Fluff, Inspired by A Song of Ice and Fire, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, R Plus L Equals J, Romance, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 13:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22716787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kurohitenshi/pseuds/Kurohitenshi
Summary: A Song of Ice and Fire: The EpilogueWhen the war ended, all of Westeros was in rubble and ruin. The losses have been numerous during the Great War against the Others, as well as the Battle of Kings Landing. And now, after a harsh and bitter Winter, Spring has finally arrived. The entire godswood was alive with blooming flowers.A collective gasp from the crowd that had gathered around the weirwood broke Jon away from his thoughts. When he turned his head, he finally saw her. His heart seemed to stop for a moment.It was his Arya. Once his little sister, but his cousin truly. And today, she was going to be his bride.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Arya Stark
Comments: 11
Kudos: 120
Collections: Jonrya Valentines Challenge





	A Dream of Spring

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to the brilliant artist @joyjuhee! Please support her art: https://joyjuhee.tumblr.com

**Jon Snow**

Winterfell was in ruins at the end of it all, although its core structure remained. They've lost so many of their family, friends, and allies during the numerous wars. Dragons and direwolves fought the final war against the Others, the only war that truly mattered for the sake of humanity.

And now, after a harsh and bitter Winter, Spring had finally arrived. As the frost began to melt, the entire godswood came alive with blooming wildflowers, tree blossoms, and winter roses.

Bran promised that he would rebuild the North as its rightful trueborn king, with Rickon by his side as his heir.

Yesterday, Jon and Arya both crowned Bran, passing on the winter crown to him. Bran was Lord Eddard Stark's trueborn heir after Robb, and so he was the rightful King in the North, especially now that peace was upon them.

Although he had been proclaimed as the King in the North by Robb’s bannermen, Jon considered himself only as the war-time king when the North needed his military strategy and battle tactics. The war had yielded unspeakable horrors and tragedy across the land, and nowhere more horrible than at Winterfell where the War with the Others had occurred.

It began years ago when House Stark lost its lord paramount Lord Eddard at the hands of King Joffrey Baratheon. During the Red Wedding that followed only months later, the King in the North, Robb, and his mother, Lady Catelyn, were murdered in cold blood despite their guest rights. Sansa was lost to House Stark the moment she was wed to Lord Tyrion Lannister, becoming Lady Lannister at that point. When King Joffrey was murdered, she became known as a kingslayer and became a wanted fugitive. Bran and Rickon had been pronounced dead during the Sack of Winterfell that Theon had instigated.

And Arya… Jon almost lost his mind when he received the letter from the bastard lord, Ramsay Bolton, which announced his upcoming wedding to Arya Stark.

To think that she could have been Ramsay’s _bride_.

Even today, Jon could still remember the utter cruelty of having to imagine Arya in a wedding dress and then in Ramsay’s bed…

_I want my bride back._

Even today, the memory caused him anguish beyond compare.

Jon had only broken his vows for Arya, unable to do so for Lord Eddard Stark or Robb. He had no reaction to Sansa’s marriage too, accepting her fate as Lord Tyrion Lannister’s wife easily. But for Arya, Jon had been beyond himself with despair. He had sent two kings to rescue her, the King-beyond-the-Wall Mance Rayder and the presumptive King of the Seven Kingdoms, Stannis Baratheon. In the end, Jon raised a wildling army and rallied his sworn brothers of the Night’s Watch to join him in his quest to save Arya.

But when he declared his intention, his sworn brothers responded with knives, their blades plunging deep into his body. With the sting of betrayal tasting like bitter blood on his lips and frozen snow pressed against the side of his face as he lay bleeding on the ground, he desperately called on his direwolf Ghost.

Jon died that day, desperately thinking of the person who was the most precious to him, the one he loved the most. With crippling regret, for he couldn’t save her from the monster who held her against her will, he died with agony in his heart as he recalled the last precious memory he had of her: his little sister Arya.

_Stick them with the pointy end!_

Even though it wasn’t even Arya for true, but a _fake_.

But today, Arya was _real_. And Jon was very much _alive_.

Jon stood in front of the weirwood, dressed in the colours of House Targaryen. He had a fine crimson tunic made out of silk, a black waistcoat made out of velvet, and over it a doublet made of lambskin. His dark grey breeches were made of soft lambswool, and his boots of polished black leather. Wrapped around his shoulders was a crimson cloak, with a dragon emblazoned on its back.

It felt strange to wear such colours, to acknowledge his true identity as the Prince of Dragonstone, and soon to be the King of the Southron Kingdoms. Jon had thought that his aunt, the Dragon Queen, Daenerys Targaryen would have become the rightful ruler, with Jon's trueborn half-brother Aegon at her side as her consort husband. But even as they had won, both had perished in the Battle of Kings Landing, caused by both dragon fire and wildfire.

At their death, Jon had been shocked to be named as Queen Daenerys Targaryen's heir in her will. He was acknowledged in front of all the lords and ladies to be Prince Rhaegar's son through Lady Lyanna Stark, legitimised as the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, just as Robb Stark had legitimised him as a Stark in his will when he was declared as the heir to the Northern Kingdom. It was beyond belief that Jon was to become king in two separate kingdoms, and so, he had relinquished the North to the rightful trueborn heir, his cousin Bran.

So many deaths, heartbreak, and misery. And yet, there was hope as Spring finally came to the broken land. It was a time for healing.

And despite everything that had happened, Jon had to admit that he was luckier than most.

Presently, there was a rumble in the crowd that were dressed in their best finery. When he turned his head at the collective gasp of the people who have gathered around the weirwood, Jon finally saw _her_.

His heart seemed to stop for a moment, as everything else was forgotten. He only had eyes for her. It was finally time to declare his intentions before the Old Gods, time to claim her as his wife.

The child-woman walked steadily next to her king brother Bran who was mounted on a horse, her other brother Rickon on her other side. She was a young maiden of surpassing loveliness, with long brown locks that was braided with white flowers, and pretty grey eyes that held so much loneliness and steel, but also warmth and kindness. She wore a lovely white wedding dress that clung to her slender body, with pearls sewn onto its bodice. A pale grey cloak with white fur around the collar wrapped around her shoulders, the direwolf arms of House Stark emblazoned on its back.

It was his Arya. Once his little sister, but his cousin truly. And today, she was his bride.

Jon's breath caught in his throat when their eyes met. She smiled at him, with complete love and devotion in her eyes, causing his heart to beat faster inside his chest.

There was no one else that Jon loved more than Arya, from the day she came into this world as a newborn babe, until the end of his days when they were old and grey. And this shall never change.

And today, finally, they were to become man and wife.

***

**Bran Stark**

Bran watched them from his mount atop his black horse, the winter crown atop his head. The crown had passed from Robb to Arya, to Jon, and then to him. Its weight was as heavy as the duty that came with it.

In the Riverlands, Lady Stoneheart had placed the crown atop Arya's head and declared her as the Queen in the North. She was the last known trueborn Stark, since Sansa had become a Lannister with her marriage to Lord Tyrion Lannister and Robb had disinherited her in his will, and Bran and Rickon had been presumed dead.

But when Arya reached Winterfell and learned about how Jon died for her, went to war for her, reclaimed Winterfell in her name and was chosen as the King in the North by Robb's bannermen, she took the crown from her head and placed it on his own, declaring Jon as the true King in the North.

Jon had refused. He proclaimed that there was no reason why he couldn't be king while Arya remained as the queen as well. And so, throughout all the battles and wars, the North knew Jon and Arya as their rightful King and Queen in the North, ruling together side by side.

Bran had seen the love they had for each other when he had returned to Winterfell with Meera. He had witnessed the lingering gazes, meaningful smiles, and unabashed affectionate touching. It was clear that any affection they shared had gone beyond what constituted as proper sibling behaviour. Bran wanted to put a stop to it, feeling so much anger at what Jon was doing to Arya's honour behind closed doors, never mind that both of them had taken Bran's rightful position as Robb's trueborn heir.

Thankfully, Jon's true parentage had been revealed in time. Jon was a Stark for true as he had been legitimised through Robb’s will, but he was also of House Targaryen. Jon was Lady Lyanna Stark and Prince Rhaegar Targaryen's bastard son. And after the final battle in Kings Landing which resulted in the death of two Targaryen rulers and conquerors, Daenerys and Aegon, a revelation came to light. It seemed as if the Dragon Queen had a trick up her sleeve to make sure that House Targaryen had its final say. Even in death, she got her wish to restore House Targaryen.

Because the Lannisters were defeated in the Red Keep by the Targaryen Army, aided by the Starks and the armies of the other major Houses, the Dragon Queen's will was taken into account.

Jon was declared as the Targaryen crown prince, and the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. He was to become the King of the Southron Court.

But just as Arya had insisted on giving Jon her winter crown, Jon declared that he will only accept the duty of being king if she was by his side in equal standing, as his queen.

This led to Jon and Arya relinquishing their crowns as the King and Queen in the North, for there were no more wars to fight for Winterfell. It was now time for rebuilding, for peace and healing. This duty was accepted solemnly by Bran, with his little brother Rickon by his side as his closest confidant and heir.

As soon as the wedding was over, Jon and Arya would head south to Kings Landing, to be proclaimed as King and Queen at the same time.

Today, in the godswood where their lord father used to pray so solemnly, they said the words in loud and clear voices so that the Old Gods and the ghosts of their ancestors could hear them.

"Who comes before the Old Gods this day?" Bran asked from his mount in front of the heart tree, looking straight into Jon's grey eyes. He saw only earnest love in its grey depths, a love for Arya that was already proven through conquest, war, and even death - a love that will endure for always.

Rickon answered in a loud and sure voice, having practiced his lines over and over for days. "Princess Arya, of House Stark, comes here to be wed. A maiden flowered, a woman grown, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Old Gods. Who comes to claim her?"

Jon stepped forward and announced his claim, "Prince Jon, of House Stark and House Targaryen, heir to Dragonstone and Kings Landing. Who gives her?"

"Rickon, of House Stark, who is her brother," Rickon proclaimed proudly.

"Princess Arya, do you take this man?" Bran asked seriously, turning to look at his sister.

Arya's eyes were wet, but she had never looked happier than at that moment. Her voice was hoarse. "I take this man."

Jon cloaked her in Targaryen colours, but did not bother to remove her grey maiden's cloak. With two cloaks on her, it meant that she was still Arya of House Stark, of equal standing to Jon.

Arya smiled at Jon, and the tears in her eyes finally spilled as she was overcome with emotion.

Jon gently cupped the back of Arya’s head and eagerly pressed his lips with hers, taking her breath away. His passion was intense, his love immeasurable. And in turn, Arya was like his reflection, loving him just as desperately, just as completely. They've fought so hard to get to this day and the relief of finally being able to wed each other caused them both to embrace so passionately, as if they were afraid that someone would steal away this moment from them.

Wild applause and cheers erupted from the people of the North, as well as their visitors from as far as Dorne and Braavos. An army of wolves and direwolves howled along in one song, the godswood grounds shaking in the celebration.

From the flowering trees all around them, tree blossoms began to fall like snow for the first time, showering the newly-wed couple and making them laugh as if they were children once again.

***

**Arya Stark**

Though their duties were numerous as they both became the King and Queen of the Southron Kingdoms, the nights belonged only to them.

Whenever they could, she and Jon would don disguises and mingle with commoners far away from the Red Keep. They would be mummers in a tavern, drinking the night away and laughing at their heart's content. They would be among the people who relied on them to make difficult decisions, making sure they never forgot the commoners who were the lifeblood of the realm.

Sometimes, they rode Rhaegal together and spent a few days in Dragonstone, learning about Jon's heritage and spending time with the people of Jon's prince father. Prince Rhaegar was loved and adored as the crown prince and, in turn, Jon was welcomed with open arms. By extension, they were warm and gracious to Arya, for which she was thankful.

Once in a while, they flew all the way to Winterfell to visit their brothers Bran and Rickon, amazed how much taller Rickon was getting, and stronger too. He looked so much like Robb that it was difficult to look at him and not be reminded of their oldest brother. Arya's last memory of him was during the Red Wedding, when his body was desecrated, with Greywind's head sewn on his shoulders. Although time healed some wounds, there were some painful things that will always remain with her until the end of her days.

Time did heal the wounds that separated them from Sansa for a long time. It took a few years, but in the end, blood was stronger than the bitterness of the past. It was like what their lord father once said: they may be as different as the sun and the moon, but the same blood flowed through both their hearts. They were relieved that she was happy with her lord husband.

Summer gave them their first son, who they named after Robb. Their child was everything they could ask for. Baby Robb had their Northern features with a tuft of brown locks on his head, and big grey eyes on his adorable face.

Arya's happiness was never-ending and Jon's euphoria was beyond compare. Jon had never imagined that he would one day hold a son in his arms, after a lifetime of believing that he was no more than a bastard.

"I love you," Jon said to her with earnest eyes full of tears, as he held her and their newborn child together. His tears spilled, dropping into the crook of her neck. She shivered as his arms held her tighter. "I love you, my wolf queen. My sister-wife. The mother of our child. You have made me the happiest man today."

"Just today?" Arya couldn't help but tease.

Jon grinned, playfully kissing the tip of her nose. "Perhaps not just today."

"Will you show me how much you love me?" she asked, grinning back.

He buried his burnt hand into her hair, running his fingers through it slowly. "I shall do whatever my wife asks."

Arya said nothing, but her earnest eyes said it all. Without even saying anything, Jon understood immediately. His lips met hers, and they kissed slowly as if it was their first time, both of them still in awe at the life they had created together. They only parted when their little boy started to howl, complaining with powerful lungs about how his father was commandeering his mother so much that he was being ignored.

Jon looked amused as he looked down at his squalling son. He kissed the babe on its plump cheek, and kissed Arya once more, this time on her brow.

"When will you be ready for me to bed you again?" Jon asked, smirking playfully as he reclined back and lay his head on a pillow. He watched as Arya bared her breast so that their son could feed. "I've missed that thing between your legs and - "

Arya's nose scrunched up and she playfully threw a pillow at his head. "Shut up, Jon!"

Jon's laughter warmed her so much, in a way that made her almost weep. She smiled at him in complete happiness, her heart bursting with so much love for the family they had created together.

***

**Bran Stark**

Bran lived the longest out of all his siblings, living a full life as the King in the North.

Rickon ruled by his side as the Crown Prince of Winterfell, as his council and enforcer of the law. He led the Northern armies and like Robb, was the military leader who commanded Bran’s bannermen. In all respects, Rickon had been a king as well and when he died as an old man, Bran made sure to have a stone statue made in his image in the crypts with a copy of Shaggy Dog by his side. Like Robb's stone statue, Rickon also had a winter crown.

There were no other brothers who were as close as they were, and Bran missed him dearly every day.

Seasons came and went: Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter. 

Rickon had married Lord Manderly's grandaughter when he came of age and they had given Winterfell six wonderful Stark children. Bran himself had married his childhood companion, Lady Meera Reed, and they were happy all their married life. Although they never had children of their own, they treated Rickon's children as if they were theirs. Meera had spoiled the three princes and three princesses and loved them with all her heart.

In Kings Landing, Jon and Arya went on to have six children of their own. It was said that no other king and queen loved each other as much as they did, not since King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne. Even in death, they had passed on quietly and together, holding each other tightly in their sleep as life left their bodies. All of Westeros had mourned them for many years, for Jon and Arya’s reign had been long, peaceful, and very prosperous. And it had been full of hope.

The family they created were full of happiness as well.

Bran couldn't help but smile as he recalled a memory from long ago, as if whispered to him by the Old Gods themselves. It was as if he could still hear his lord father's voice as he had spoken to Arya in Kings Landing when she was but a child, weeks before everything had changed for the worst.

"You," Lord Eddard Stark said to his daughter Arya as he kissed her lightly on the brow, "will marry a king and rule his castle, and your sons will be knights and princes and lords and, yes, perhaps even a High Septon."

Despite the cruel fate that his lord father met in Kings Landing, his children had gone on to honour his memory. It was in Robb valiantly fighting for the North and the Riverlands, in Sansa's survival and adaptability in Kings Landing and the Vale, in Arya's bravery, tenacity, and compassion as an orphan child living through war, violence, and poverty, in Jon's leadership ability, strength of character, and love, and Rickon's fortitude in recovering his sense of self after a childhood where he could barely recall their family's love for him.

Rickon's children were Winterfell’s princes and princesses at birth, but aside from the heir, the others went on to do duties that were just as important. Some went to the True North to strengthen relations with the free folk, while others went south and east, discovering lands that only their Aunt Arya have visited before. Three were married. Bran will soon have his first great grandchild who will be the future heir to Winterfell.

Jon and Arya's children were just as Lord Eddard Stark said they were going to be, as if the Old Gods comforted him during prayer with Arya's true fate, when he had worriedly been faced with her unconventional femininity as a child.

King Robb was as valiant and kind as his parents Jon and Arya, and his brothers and sisters were the same. One son became a valiant knight after squiring with Arya's childhood friend Ned Dayne who was a famous knight who wielded Dawn and was the Sword of the Morning. Another son became the Prince of Dragonstone, while their daughters became dragon riders who became as tough as their queen mother, and became ambassadors to distant lands. The youngest son was drawn to the North, eager to learn as much as he could about his parents’ Old Gods. It was he who spread the religion of the Old Gods of the First Men to the south, he who planted weirwood trees all over the continent.

Bran smiled to himself as he looked down the long table where his entire family sat, Rickon's children and Jon and Arya's reunited together after many years apart. There were a dozen of them, all men and women grown, some with Tully features but more than half with the Northern look. They were all laughing together, playfully squabbling about old childhood memories when they used to run around together in the godswood, just like their parents before them.

This was the legacy of Eddard Stark, Catelyn Stark, Lyanna Stark, and even Rhaegar Targaryen. This was Robb, Jon, Arya and Rickon. And yes, even Sansa. Bran could see his mother, father, and siblings in this new generation of Starks.

After the Winter that nearly destroyed everything and everyone he loved, the Old Gods have made what was once his dream of Spring into reality.

Bran smiled, the moment as bittersweet as only an old man would know, for he could feel the ghosts of his family were there too, in the trees, the flowers, and the wolves and dragons.

He was the last of the Starks of the previous generation. Though they don’t know it yet, this will be the last time that Bran will spend with this new generation of Starks, for he will soon join the rest of his family in the afterlife.

The future was safe in their hands.

***

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentines everyone!


End file.
